Late Night Arguments
by Mehghla
Summary: "Can I borrow a quill?" Just five simple words caused a silence that seemed to last for hours. /Oneshot/


**A/N: Hey guys! How've you been? Wow, it's been a while since I posted anything. Well here is the long-overdue part 3 to my _Late Night _series. This one features Ron and Hermione and is set after the war. Hope you guys enjoy it! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter**

Created: March 31, 2012

**Late Night Arguments **

For the first time in a long time, the Burrow was silent. Nearly all its occupants were out. Arthur and Molly had left on a long awaited vacation after much urging from their children. Charlie had moved back to Romania and Percy was living in London again. George alternated between homes, though tonight, he slept in the shop. Harry was visiting Teddy and Ginny was attending a sleepover at Luna's.

Ron sat in the living room, fingering a snitch in his hands. He seemed to have adopted Harry's habit of carrying one around in his pockets to play with when bored. Across from him, Hermione sat curled in an armchair. Her eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as she furiously read over the thick tome that rested in her lap. Beside her, a stack of equally large novels waited for her to read them.

There was an enchanted fire in the fireplace, emitting light but not heat. The large windows surrounding the room were wide open, an occasional breeze coming in and fluttering the curtains.

All of a sudden, Ron stood up and stalked over to the window. He propped an arm on the windowpane, leaning out. The crisp night air licked his face and Ron closed his eyes. He could smell the end of summer and could hear fall creeping up, rustling the tall grasses surrounding the house. The night sky was exceptionally clear, every constellation visible to Ron from his perch.

He hadn't seen a sky so clear since the previous year, when they were on the run, hunting horcruxes. Such a time seemed so long ago, even though barely a year had passed since the day they left.

Abruptly, Ron turned around and glanced at Hermione. She was still absorbed in her novel, her legs curled underneath her as she bent over to see the tiny writing. A loose strand of hair fell in front of her face, sticking to her cheek.

She looked so innocent and calm. It bothered him how she could sit there and pretend everything was okay. Everything was _not _okay. Nothing was the same anymore. Ron's brother was gone, his family was broken, his best friend was scarred, and Hermione didn't bother to acknowledge his presence. How could she _possibly _act like everything was fine?

Ron felt sudden anger rise up in him.

After the end of the war, their relationship had been severed as ever. Once the first couple of days of chaos and confusion passed and things started to settle down as much as they could, Ron and Hermione were left in an awkward state. At first, neither wanted to discuss the spontaneous kiss that occurred between the. Both waited for the other to bring the topic up.

Instead of improving, the situation slowly got worse. The first couple of days at the Burrow were the worst. At Hogwarts, both Ron and Hermione could be busy with rebuilding the castle and aiding families who had lost loved ones. At he Burrow, they had to face the elephant in the room.

Eventually, a ceasefire was reached. Hermione approached Ron one morning, asking if she could borrow a quill for a second. Just five simple words caused a silence that seemed to last for hours. Then, Ron nodded, hading over the quill and commenting on the Chudley Cannons. And just like that, everything was okay again.

Or so they thought.

Tensions increased between the two as the summer progressed. Especially in the presence of the other happy couples, neither Ron nor Hermione knew how to act. And it was like this the two of them spent their days.

Hermione turned another page, keeping her eyes glued to the writing. Yet, even as she stared at the paper, her eyes glazed over and her thoughts strayed elsewhere. She was suddenly aware of everything around her. The clock above the fireplace ticked monotonously. The fire cast shadows all over the room, giving it a strange orange glow. Outside, a night owl hooted.

She watched out the corner of her eye as Ron stood up and walked over to one of the windows. Hermione couldn't help but admire his profile.

Hermione gave a silent sigh; she chastised herself, reminding herself that she was in no place to admire him.

It was during times like these that she wanted him the most. Late at night, she would yearn for him to hold her, to touch her hair, to say her name. Hermione wanted nothing more than things to be normal again. How long has she waited for him to realize his feelings for her? How many days had she neglected her studies, choosing instead to watch him from a distance—always from a distance? And now, she was even farther away from him than ever.

Apparently, Hermione had been staring too long because the next thing she knew, Ron began to turn around. Hastily, she pulled her gaze back to her book, trying to appear engrossed.

Hermione felt Ron's gaze sweep over her as she willed herself not to turn red. A couple of moments passed and Hermione wondered if Ron had returned to his position at the window. She decided to look up and sneak a peek.

Ron caught her looking at him. The anger that was bubbling inside of him spilled over. "What the hell are you looking at?" Ron asked, glaring at Hermione.

Hermione looked taken aback. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't start that with me. You know exactly what I'm talking about!" Ron snarled. In the back of his mind, Ron knew he was making no sense, but his sudden anger go the best of him, causing him to think irrationally.

When Hermione didn't reply, Ron continued, "I saw you watching me from my place a t the window. Don't deny it. You and I both know it's true."

Hermione flushed red; she'd been caught. "So what if I have," she defended, "Can't friends look at one another? Is that such a crime?"

"Ha!" Ron exclaimed. "_Friends_! Is that what you're calling us now? Friends?"

"Is that not what we've been for the past eight years? Friends?" Hermione quartered. Some time during their argument, she'd abandoned her book on the armchair, choosing instead to stand with her hand on her hip.

"Sure, we used to be friends, but lately I'm not so sure." The last part came out softer than intended as Ron accidentally spoke his mind.

Hermione's eyes softened. She took a step closer to Ron, holding an arm out to cup his face, but not daring to close the distance between the. For a second, Ron looked as if he may lean into the embrace. Then, his face hardened once more.

"No!" Ron barked. He took a step back. "I'm not going to let you do this to me again."

Hermione dropped her hand. "Do what? What have I done to you?"

"You seduced me!" Ron hissed, his eyes turning into slits. "You led me on, letting me believe you actually cared about me."

Any other time, Hermione would have laughed; such a strong word coming out of Ron's mouth sounded wrong. At the moment, though, she was shocked by his statement.

"I seduced you? _I _seduced _you_? What about all you did to me?" She didn't wait for an answer. "You held my hand at Dumbledore's funeral. You danced with me at Bill and Fleur's wedding. You acted chivalrous in Grimlaud Place. You _slept _next to me. You were jealous of my nonexistent relationship with Harry. You _kissed _me!" As she began listing events, Hermione's voice grew louder and louder until it was high and shrill. "You kissed me," she repeated, softer this time. "You kissed me, Ronald Weasley and how _dare _you accuse me of seducing you!"

"Bloody hell woman!" Ron yelled. "Yeah, so I kissed you. A whole lot of good that did me," he said bitterly.

"What are you talking about!"

"Oh, you know what I'm talking about. You've been ignoring me and pretending I don't exist since we came here!" Ron said incredulously.

"Oh, like you haven't been doing the same," Hermione spat out sarcastically. "Admit it, Ronald, when was the last time you actually looked at me?"

And at that time, Ron looked at her. He saw her unruly mane of curls, bushing out from behind her hair tie. He saw her cheeks, red with anger and her eyes, fiery and sparkling with the thrill of a new argument. "My eyes are always on you. They can't get enough of you. Don't you know how beautiful you are?"

Hermione felt a flutter inside of her at the compliment, but once he'd gotten her started, she wasn't going to back down easily. "Really? Well if you really felt that way, why didn't you do anything? Huh? All summer and not once have you done anything. Are you really such a coward?"

"Coward? COWARD? Hermione, you know as well as I do that I am no coward." Ron's eyes darkened. Though is gaze was on Hermione and hers on him, their minds were both back at the Ministry, back in the forest, back in Mafoy Manor, and the Lovegood's home, and Gringotts, and Hogwarts. In their minds, they were still on the run.

"I—I'm sorry," Hermione apologized, "I shouldn't have gone so far. I wasn't thinking properly."

"Like hell," Ron spat, "You knew _exactly_ what you were saying."

"It was an accident, Ron!" Hermione repeated. "There you go again, blaming everything on me. It was my entire fault, wasn't it?"

"I blame you no more than you blame yourself," Ron pointed out.

Hermione shrieked in frustration. "You know what Ron? I can't take it anymore. This is enough. Tell me the truth and then I'll leave you alone. That's all I want. The truth. That's all I ever wanted."

"You want to know the truth? Well alright. The truth is…"Ron froze. "The truth...er…well the truth is—"

Hermione shook her head in disgust. "Just forget it." She turned to leave.

"Bloody hell, Hermione! You want to know the truth? Alright. The truth is that I love you," Ron blurted out.

As the words left him, the world seemed to freeze. Hermione stared, aghast, not knowing what else to say.

For a while, they stared at each other, letting the words sink in. Then, Ron took a step forward—in the heat of their argument, the two had walked closer and closer to one another till they were neck in neck.

"I love you Hermione Granger," Ron repeated, much softer this time. "I really do love you."

Hermione gave a choked gasp. Her hand fiddled with her hair. Before she could say anything, Ron stepped even closer. This was the closest he'd been in months. Ron ran his fingers through Hermione's messy hair, detaching her hand and taking it into his own. Ron leaned in closer, so close that Hermione could make out the individual freckles on his face.

Staring deeply into her eyes, Ron sighed. "I love you, Hermione."

And then, he kissed her. All their awkwardness and shyness; all the days spent avoiding each other; all the stolen glances and yearning; all the nights spent lying alone, waiting; all their love was poured into that kiss. While their first kiss was spontaneous, as spur-of-the-moment snap decision caused by all the chaos surrounding them, this one was different. This kiss was slower, more mature. It was hesitant and understanding, being cautious not to break the fragile boundaries so carefully set around them. But it was fierce. It made up for the time lost and for the foolish thoughts previously pushing them away from each other.

When they broke apart, breathing heavily, Ron rested his forehead against Hermione's.

Not looking at him, Hermione turned to Ron's ear. "You know what, Ronald?" She paused. "I love you as well."

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**How was it? Please review!**


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